


Gestation

by Wolfsheart



Category: Contrarywise, Trickster's Touch, Zohra Greenhalgh
Genre: Gen, Imagination, Love, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Organization, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Cravings, Tricksters, pregnant gods, travel between worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsheart/pseuds/Wolfsheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just another quiet day in Eranossa, the place of the Bright Shining Ones, wherein Phebene caters to Rimble's pregnancy cravings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gestation

“Just where are you going with _that_?” 

Cerulean eyes took in the folds of the soft white garment that was wrapped around her elder sister like a toga, making the Greatkin of Organization look positively...Grecian, affecting, of course, the goddess fantasy she often indulged in.  It brought a smile to Phebene's face, not that she was often without one, and she adjusted the large platter in her hands so that she could bring one up to tuck a golden lock of hair behind her right ear. 

“I see you're keeping to that 'one face' idea really well, Maddi,” came the honey-tongued but sarcastic response from the Patron of Great Loves and Tender Trysts.  “And I'm taking this to Rimble.  He's having cravings.” 

Sathmadd arched a finely shaped eyebrow at her 'younger' sister then looked to the door at the end of the hall.  “ _Again_?”  She returned her gaze to the platter and tried not to grimace at the array of oddities – pickles, wafer-thin cheese crackers scattered around a small monkey dish full of smoked salmon spread, tiny tentacled beasties with their suckers dipped in a dollop of cocktail sauce, pearl onions, nachos with extra jalapenos, a bowl of Malteasers and another of warm caramel sauce.  Maddi wrinkled her regal nose at the assortment.  “I don't see _how_ the little shit can eat all of that.  That baby of his is going to wind up as twisted as he is.” 

Phebene laughed.  “Consider the parents, Maddi.  Besides, Jinn's been spending a lot of time with our little brother...keeping him company...pampering him...” 

“...fueling these weird cravings by giving him _those_ ideas,” Sathmadd interrupted and shook her head. 

The blonde just giggled and nodded, obviously finding the bizarre cravings amusing.  “What does it hurt?  At least, Rimble's not in your hair at the moment, Maddi.” 

Sathmadd just lifted her eyes ceilingward and sighed, heavy with relief.  “Thank the Presence for that.”  She returned her attention to Phebene then reached out with one slender, gently wrinkled hand and plucked two Malteasers from the bowl. 

“Hey, those are for Rimble.  I had to go all the way to London for those,” Phebene protested and shifted the platter away from her sister. 

After popping the candies into her mouth and chewing them up, Maddi just smiled.  “No you didn't.” 

“Alright.  I had to go all the way to the Greendale World Market...”

“...and you just _happened_ to stop in Milwaukee by _her_ place on the way there?” 

She could hear the door to Jinndaven's bedroom opening and knew the boys were becoming impatient for her return with the treats.  “Maddi, I wanted her to know...” 

“Phebes?” the voice punctuated by the jingling of bells called.  The flashing of several tiny mirrors across the hem of the plum and lavender robes caught the two women's eyes, and Jinndaven crossed his arms over his chest while he waited. 

“Coming!  Maddi, really...I just wanted her to know that the baby was healthy...”

Sathmadd groaned and buried her face in the palm of her hand.  “Yes, because a mortal woman needs to know that the child she _fathered_ off of a male Greatkin is healthy.  Phebene-dear, I know you mean well in all your...syrupy-ness, but you can't go breaking mortals' heads that way.  It's not very kosher...”  She picked up one of the gherkins and bit into it with a crunch.  “...unlike this,” she announced and finished the rest just as the belled and purple figure left the threshold, leaving the door open in his wake.  “...just go, little sister.  Feed that errant brother and tell him I still want to know what he intends to name this child.” 

Phebene watched Sathmadd walk down the hall of Eranossa, the echoing tap-tap-tap of her slippered feet growing fainter until she could no longer hear a thing.  Finally, she turned and walked into the bedroom belonging to the Greatkin of Imagination, pausing just inside the door long enough to feel her heart swell with happiness at the sight of her two brothers – Jinndaven in all his purple glory, cuddled up to Rimble (in all his waspy-pregnant glory), one ringed hand on a very naked and very plump belly to feel the kicking of life inside.

“You two are just so cute together,” she declared and waltzed further inside, setting the platter onto the table next to the bed.  She leaned across and set a warm palm on Rimble's belly.  “And how is the little mother today?” 

Rimble cackled and threw back his head, his long, thin nose pointed toward the heavens.  Then he stroked his goatee before dropping his hand to pat the crotch of his black and yellow striped maternity pants. 

“Not so little, dear sister,” Trickster crowed.  “Not so little at all.”  

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the two books by Zohra Greenhalgh, Contrarywise, and Trickster's Touch, which are both sadly out of print. You can find used copies at Amazon, Half.com and abebooks.com. They're a lot of fun to read, and the more times you read them, the more stuff you find. Rimble is the Trickster.


End file.
